Scribbler
by Nyades Road Ghost
Summary: Draco, now a psychiatrist, meets up with an old friend who now has multiple personalities. Slightly futuristic AU. Meant to be weird andor humorous.
1. Melinda

Draco scribbled a few last words on his notepad, preparing himself for his next appointment. He scanned over the folder, labeled _Smith, Jonathon _and raised his eyebrows.

"Another psycho with multiple personalities…" He said to himself. There was a knock on the door. He put the folder away quickly. "Er…come in!" He shouted. The door swung open and a tall, slim lady waltzed in. She had short, rainbow colored hair and large framed glasses. She was wearing a teal sundress and flip flops to match. "Could I help you?" Draco asked politely, inwardly cringing at the woman's lack of fashion sense.

"Well, I was pretty much counting on that. This is my psychiatric appointment and all." The woman stated in a surprisingly masculine voice. She sat down gracefully in her proper chair. Draco was a tad surprised.

"Oh, are you Jonathon Smith?"

"No, my name is Melinda. Melinda Valdez." She – he – corrected.

"I see." Draco said. "Would you like to start off by telling me about yourself, Melinda?"

"Well, I'm thirty-six years old this February-," _She is obviously not thirty-six_, Draco thought. He scribbled in his notepad. "I've got a wonderful husband named Larry, three children – Susan, Patricia, and Evan – and I am completely and fully content with my life."

"So why are you here, Melinda?"

"That's the trouble, you see. I don't really know what's wrong with me. Yesterday I was a completely different person."

"Who was that?"

"Would you like me to tell you all of them?"

"If you want, yes."

"Yesterday I was Chester, and then before that I was Jared, and Kyle, and Freddie, and…oh…who…oh yes! Karen! She was very into motorcycles." She – he – laughed into her hand. "I do remember who I used to be before all this started, though."

"Who was that?" He asked, sipping on his coffee.

"Harry Potter." She said simply as Draco spit his coffee out all over his desk.

"WHAT?" He screeched.

"Oh, did he know you? I'm terribly sorry about that, then. Maybe tomorrow he'll be back…" The words didn't comfort Draco much, though. He was still in a state of shock.

"What happened? Something must have happened…"

"I don't know. I was hoping you could tell me."

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"Well…" Her – his – eyes fluttered to the ceiling. "I remember…someone had died. Yes, _someones, _really. I think there might have been 2 or 3. And I remember there was a rainy day…and there was a knock on my door – Harry's door, excuse me – and the next thing I remember, Victor was me. And then Greg. I wasn't too fond of Greg, he was too much of a flirt."

"Does the name Sirius ring any bells?" Draco was still scribbling furiously in his notepad. Melinda's smile disappeared. Her face darkened considerably.

"Y…yes…oh no, I…" She stared at herself in horror. "What am I…?! I have to go!" She ran out. Draco stayed in his chair. _This will be an interesting case…_He thought, scratching his beard. _Interesting indeed…_

NEXT CHAPTER: If there is one, I'm thinking of basing it/dedicating it to a certain Crow-like friend in my life. Yes, the one with the perfect nose, Hannah and Abbey. **Perfect. **

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter is dedicated to Bill Valentino. Rest in peace, buddy. Sorry about the scissors…I had no choice! It was for a grade!

PLEEEEEEEEEEEASE review! Please? Pretty Please? I need more than two reviews or I might just have to crawl in a hole and die. You wouldn't want that, would you?


	2. Michael

Note: Rating change due to language! Had to stay true to the character…

Draco sat at his desk, reading the newest issue of _Vanity Fair_. He looked at the Reese Witherspoon excerpt longer than the rest of the excerpts in the issue, but this is not to be noticed. His office door swung open suddenly and the sounds of thunder flooded the room. He didn't look up, however, but simply said, "Have a seat," and laid his magazine down. He was used to this sort of thing by now. He'd had many dramatic patients throughout the years. When he looked back up, and at the door, the tall woman from yesterday was no longer a woman. She'd regained her masculinity over night, it seemed. The man there now was dressed head to toe in black, or it was assumed that he was, because he had a large duster covering his clothes. His hair hung in his face spookily and the boom box on his shoulder continued to emit rainstorm noises. "Have a seat," Draco said again.

"What? Do I…frighten you?" Harry (?) asked dramatically.

"Er…yes, would you mind turning your music down?"

"It's not music. It's art for the ears."

"Whatever…please…turn it down and come over here." He finally did as he was told. Draco took out his notepad and pen. "What is your name?"

"Michael." He said distractedly, more focused on his chipped black nails than Draco.

"Really?"

"Yeah, like the arch angel."

"You're religious, then?"

"Fuck no!" He said, suddenly aware. He laughed maniacally. Draco scribbled in his notepad.

"So…what's been bothering you lately?"

"The human race. Christian freaks. You. Me. And sunscreen."

"Care to talk about the sunscreen?" Michael's face darkened.

"No. Don't you ever ask me about it again if you know what's good for you." He curled his left hand into a fist. Almost.

"What's that on your finger?" Draco pointed to a metal covering on his left ring finger, which had made his fist look a little bit silly.

"It's a claw, dumbass. What does it look like?"

"Why are you wearing it?"

"In case I have to shove it-,"

"What about hating yourself?" He cut in. "I heard something about that. Want to talk about that?"

"Want to see something?" He rifled through the shirts he was wearing before finding the bottom one and awkwardly lifting it so his stomach was showing. Tens of names were carved into his skin. "This is me. This is what I hate." The name _Melinda _was beginning to bleed again. Draco scribbled furiously.

"Who are those people?"

"I said that already, they're me. All of them. Some of them have eve come back."

"And you remember them all?"

"Yes."

"And you can't stop them from coming back?"

"No. It's like having a constant house party. They're all in my head right now, telling me what to say and how to hold myself and how to do my make up…"

"They're worried about your make up?"

"Yes."

"Sound like good people."

"Oh, they are. All except for Tristan and Veronica…Tristan was sent to jail on drug charges, and Veronica was a prostitute."

"How long do they control you?"

"Well, I've been around for a year, altogether. I'm the one that cuts, so I have to come back a lot and keep track of all of them."

"Why not keep it on paper instead of on your stomach?"

"Because Regina eats paper. And paste. I swear to god, she's got the mentality of a six year old…" He shook his head. Then he took a lighter out of his pocket and began to burn his fingers.

"Stop it." Draco scolded. Michael put the lighter back in his pocket. "Where do you work?"

"I don't. I think I inherited the…" He trailed off. "Harry says I got the money from the two dead ones. He won't mention names, though."

"Are you talking to Harry now?"

"Yeah."

"Tell him Draco says hi." Michael's eyes glazed over a bit, and then came back to life a second later.

"Fuck, you guys slept together?" He stood up and grabbed a bottle of pills out of his pocket. He downed a few.

"Woah woah woah! Put 'em down! What are those?"

"Oh, they're nothing. They're just to shut Harry up. He's in one of those nostalgic moods." He rolled his heavily eyeliner-ed eyes. "He's such a baby sometimes." He checked his watch, which was somehow visible under the layers of clothes he had on. "I've got to get going, I think I heard my doorbell…" He grabbed his boom box and walked out with heavy footsteps.   
Draco kept on scribbling on his notepad.

Next Chapter: This one will probably be one of the 'cards' my dad works with. It'd be funny if it offended someone.

Dedication: This is dedicated to probably the coolest person I know, Ryan. I hope to god he doesn't read this.

And thanks sooo much for the reviews! Thank you! Now I just hope to get more than four, and I'll be happy.


	3. Robert

Draco sensed, rather than heard, the entrance made by Harry today. He patiently waited for a knock on his door, as he had the other two times, and carefully screwed the cap back on to the green nail polish he had been applying on his toenails. Before he could say, "Come in," a man was seated in front of him.

"Oh! Hello." He said pleasantly. "Give me a moment to get my notepad and pen out, please."

"What, yeh ain't not ready for me?" Harry (?) growled in a very hick accent. Today he had turned into a completely different person altogether. He had what we, Americans at least, like to refer to as a mullet. His overstuffed belly hung over the waistband of his greasy jeans, and three of the buttons on his shirt were missing. He also had a full on pedophile moustache. Draco ignored the comment, and went on with the meeting.

"Alright. What is your name?"

"Robert. Robert Muench."

"Where are you from, Robert?"

"Mr. Muench, if yeh don't mind." He said huffily. "Don't think we're on friendly terms or nothin'. I ain't friends with nobody…'cept maybe Tanya."

"Who's Tanya?"

"Ma girl. She's back home in Willard, though."

"Willard? Is that near York?"

"Nah, it's in Missouruh. Yeh ever heard of Missouruh?"

"In the United States? Yes, I took a course on muggle studies at the university."

Robert gave an unreadable look. Well, you were able to gather from it that he was angry, so it wasn't too unreadable. "You think yer better 'en me, don't yeh? Well, I didn't become no truck drivin', law abidin', Bush lovin' son-of-a-gun for people like you. Know that, punk. I don't care none about _what _you think o' me!" His chubby face had a twinge of red to it.

"Calm down Robert, I'm not better than you are in anyway."

"Damn straight." He muttered.

"Tell me about Tanya." Draco said after a moment, scribbling away on his notepad.

"Ah…" His face got even redder. "Shucks. She's like an angel. She's got this…like… Shiny hair. An' pointy ears. An' a long bushy tail. And she's fast! Like this-," He made swooshing movements with his hands.

"I take it she's not human?"

"Oh, she is. When yeh look like me, yeh've kinda got to take what you can get."

"That's not true. You don't have to settle, you are worth a lot, Robert."

"What are yeh saying, buddy? Are yeh hittin' on me? You wanna fist in yer face? Huh? Huh?" He stood up and knocked over his chair.

"Now, really, is all that necessary?" He wrote something short on his paper. Robert's eyes glazed over a little, much like Michael's had the previous visit, and came to life a second later.

"Ah, man, I'm sorry. Harry said…Harry said yeh fellas used tuh be buds. I 'pologize." He stuck his hand out. "Forgiven?" Draco grabbed his hand (not really wanting to…he had actually seriously considered offering him a moist toilette) and shook it.

"You're forgiven, don't worry about it." Robert began pacing. "What were your parents like?"

"They was like little kids. Couldn't ever do nothin' bah themselves." He shook his head. "Ma momma used to cook these wonduhful meals, but that was about all she done. Ma daddy lost his fingers in the war, so he could never work for money or nothin'."

"That sounds awful."

"Yeah, he also lost his shoes in the war, too. Them were nice shoes, I can tell yeh. Like, rainbow colors."

"Oh, I understand completely. My father lost his keys in the jungles of Vietnam."

"'Nam…'Nam…what a war that was, eh?" He stopped pacing in front of the window and looked out. "Them learnin' books sure make it sound horrible."

"Do you have any siblings? Brothers? Sisters?"

"Well, I don't got no siblings, but I do got a sistuh named…What was it? Oh, yeah, it Farrah. After Farrah Fawcett, y'know?"

"Ah. Yes. Actress?"

"Nah, that lady on those imfo-mercials. That sells those _Amazin'! _shammy things."

"What is your sister like?"

"She's a moron. An' she's uglier 'en Tanya." He laughed. "If you seen Tanya before, you'd be laughin' too!" He held his tummy and his laughter finally ceased after a moment. "Last time I talked to her, she was turnin' tricks for cocaine. She had to set fahr to her vee-hick-ull jus' to pay her rent."

"Set far?"

"Yeah, set fahr. Like what yeh start in yer fahrplace in thuh winter?"

"Oh, _fire_. To collect insurance for it, I guess?"

"I guess." He said. There was silence for a while. Finally Robert moved towards the door. "Well, I'm bored. I think I'll see yeh next time. Bye!" Draco waved goodbye, like any proper gentleman would.

"It's been nice meeting you." He called out the door. "I miss Michael…" He said quietly.

Next Chapter: I'm thinking something along the lines of tortured war veteran. The 'Nam thing got me thinking.

Reviewers, thanks a million!! You guys are the best!! I'm not the only person out there with a weird sense of humor!

Dedication: Well, it only seems right that I dedicate this to one of my friends who had a really rough night last night. You really scared all of us, but we're over it and we're here for you any time and we hope you can get past this point. We do love you, even if you don't believe us. And I'm sorry this piece of crap is all I can give you for right now. (Abbey and Hannah, please ignore this.)


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